


little stardrop

by orbitalknight



Category: Xenoblade Chronicles
Genre: Canon Compliant, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-05-28 11:22:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15047765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orbitalknight/pseuds/orbitalknight
Summary: Set approximately 50 years before the events of the game, a time when Kallian was not so good at saying exactly the right thing.A two-part piece regarding the interactions of the latest generation of Antiqua siblings, and a request made by the young princess.





	1. a promise, asked

Prince Kallian was nervous. 

The feeling was unfamiliar, rarely encountered within picturesque Alcamoth. Usually, given any suddenly unsteady beats of the heart, all it would take was a glance up at the wide expanse of blue sky or more often the bright and distant stars to recover some sense of purpose and stability. Many of the High Entia had a tendency toward being nearly nocturnal, Kallian was no exception. He wasn’t as aggressive an astronomer as some of the Alcamoth residents, but it was hard not to become entranced with the colors that draped the far off points of light, seemingly painted with some heavenly sponge brush. But it wasn’t night now, and the uneasiness persisted.

He really had no right to be, he was certain of that. But there was a highly specific breed of awkwardness that came from this situation, the estrangement of siblings. Years were of little consequence to the High Entia, but 70 years was still a notable age difference. It certainly made detaching from the notion of being an only child more difficult. Kallian wondered if Melia ever felt the same way, trailing behind the other two members of the group making their way up to the secluded imperial villa. She was the reason for his nervousness, by no fault of her own. This was not the first time Kallian had gone to see her, he had on a handful of occasions across the relatively short while she’d been alive, but that only added guilt to the cocktail of distress. He could make the excuse of being busy, certainly, because he was. Or there was the reasoning that the nature of Melia’s isolation made frequent visits suspicious and should, therefore, be avoided. 

There was logic to it, yes, but despite his lack of context for how an older brother should act Kallian was sure this avoidance was incorrect. The bridge to the villa felt an unbearably long walk after the party warped to the upper level of the Alcamoth palace. The spires of the villa loomed ahead, a hallmark of High Entian architecture, and as they approached he could see the bubble-like structure that spanned the outside of the garden. At the front of the visiting group was the future emperor Sorean Antiqua himself, flanked by one of the more seasoned members of the imperial guard. He visited the villa even less frequently than Kallian and brought with him the full weight of his immensely high expectations every time. 

Finally, the opening of the bubble wall was visible, as well as two symmetrically placed trees and four not as symmetrically placed figures. Standing on the same invisible line as the trees were two more of the imperial guard, specifically assigned to this part of the palace and its residents. In the center stood the other two, though one was partially obscured behind the other. Melia herself, of course, perhaps somewhat intimidated by the procession on the way. Not that Kallian could blame her if she was, as intimidation was included in the job of the imperial guard.

The other figure was Melia’s mother, the Second Consort. The Homs woman was getting on in her years, hair grayed out enough that she almost could have passed for a High Entia. She was smiling gently, one hand on top of Melia’s head. The lines that age had traced on her face became more apparent as the approach continued. Abruptly the guards at the front of the party stopped and Sorean stepped forward to grasp the free hand of the Second Consort with both of his own hands, the two of them exchanging some pleasantries that Kallian could not overhear. Sorean turned to lean down to address Melia, who immediately shied away from the attention to hide more fully behind her mother. Another exchange between Sorean and the Second Consort, ending in laughter from both parties, which was to a degree unusual. Finally, the two of them made as if to leave and speak more privately elsewhere, eliciting a loud protest from Melia. Her mother shrugged an apology at Sorean and squatted to be at the same level as the young princess. Without any sort of warning, she pointed at Kallian, then gave Melia one last affectionate pat on the head before walking off. 

Melia fixed her half-brother with a glare far too large for her tiny body, hands balled into fists around the skirt of her dress. But she waited between the symmetrical trees nonetheless. 

Kallian nervously clasped his hands behind his back, then quickly decided against the motion and in an equally nervous manner clasped his hands in front of him. “Good afternoon, Melia!” he said, unsure of if he should attempt to close the distance between them. 

“And a good afternoon to you as well!” Melia’s response was in equal measure polite and indignant, and with it came a huff of finality. She stomped off into the gardens around the villa. 

Clearly leaving the half-siblings unsupervised like this was by design, so Kallian followed after Melia into the garden. She was sitting among the flowers and grass in a place that seemed to have been flattened for this express purpose. Kallian made his way over slowly, making certain he didn’t accidentally step on one of the many blooms. He found a spot a little distance from Melia where there were fewer flowers and moved to sit down, startled at how cold the grass was. This was likely due to the altitude at which Alcamoth hovered and whatever moisture had been leftover from the last time the plants were tended to, but that did not diminish the shock of such an unfamiliar sensation. 

For a while the air was stiff with silence. Kallian was uncertain of whether it was the grass or lack of conversation that was more uncomfortable, searching desperately for something worthwhile to say. 

“Are you... Enjoying your studies?” he asked, finally. But the regret was instant with the realization he’d done nothing but parrot a line from their father.

Melia had clearly come to the same conclusion, letting out another huff. “Do you not remember?”

Kallian frowned. “Remember what?”

“My answer from when you last asked. And last visited.”

Kallian attempted, somewhat unsuccessfully, to minimize his outward expression of embarrassment. “My apologies.”

Another stretch of silence, but this time it was Melia who broke it. “If you had asked if perhaps my answer had changed since then...”

“Ah!” Kallian could tell he was being thrown a line, and it would have been an injustice to Melia not to take it. “Is there-- has your answer changed?”

She nodded, pleased. “Yes. I have been greatly enjoying botany.”

“Botany?”

“For the sake of this garden, you see.” Melia gestured to the flowers, which swayed gently as she did.

“It is a lovely garden. Clearly, your efforts have not gone to waste.”  
Melia shook her head. “I’ve no right to praise for my mother’s handiwork and expertise,” she turned aside, speaking more quietly, “Though I hope it will remain this lovely when only I am here to tend it.”

“I have nothing but faith in your abilities,” Kallian said, but felt that the words were not enough. Uncertain of what physical reassurance would be best, he eventually settled on giving Melia a firm, but not overly firm, pat on the shoulder. Melia gave him the same look he assumed she might if he had been describing in graphic detail the digestive system of a slug. 

“You’ve no reason for such confidence.” Melia scowled, which was an expression that did not entirely match the rest of her relatively downy personage. 

Kallian had no reason to be dishonest with her. “Father speaks highly of your progress in all of your studies, Melia.”

“Does he?” the scoff was apparent in her words, “If he truly has such faith in my abilities, one would assume that he would allow me some greater freedom.”

“What sort of freedom do you mean?”

Melia took a deep breath. “I would like to go outside.”

Kallian frowned. “Outside? I am happy to accompany you anywhere in Alcamoth, given the proper permission.”

“No!” Melia threw herself back onto the grass. “Not Alcamoth. I want to go truly outside. See the Eryth Sea, the Syrath Lighthouse... all of it.” She closed her eyes, all the better to imagine the scenery. “Surely, it is even more beautiful than the textbooks describe?”

Kallian looked up at the sky, uncertain of how to answer. He had no intention of lying to Melia, but worried at the consequences of confirming her fantasies. That, and he was not entirely disposed to long outdoor excursions. “It is beautiful,” he said, “but I am not certain the scenery would live up to your expectations.”

Melia sighed. “I know you only say that because of the supposed safety risk. If Father truly had any such faith in me, I do not think I would be left to imagining.”

“There is more at stake than your safety, Melia. It has nothing to do with your talents.”

She sat up, fixing Kallian with a stare that he immediately knew he didn’t like. “Prove it, then. If you believe in me so blindly, take me outside.”

Kallian stiffened. “I cannot possibly--”

“I do not mean right this instant,” Melia was quick to clarify, noticing his distress.

“I...” Kallian took a deep breath, for composure’s sake. “I am not entirely certain there is anything written that expressly prohibits you from going outside. If you are truly set on doing this, I will make the arrangements.”

Melia’s eyes sparkled with surprise and excitement, the sudden emotion reflected in an inadvertent flap of the wings on her head. “You would do that for me?”

“Consider it a token of apology.”

“For what?”

Kallian smiled, a little ruefully. “Always asking you the same question, among other things.” 

A voice called out for the two of them in the direction of the villa gate. Kallian stood, followed by Melia. By the trees where he had entered stood the Second Consort and the soon to be Emperor, Melia’s mother waving to get their attention. He made as if to leave, but she tugged on his sleeve, beckoning him down to her height. 

“What you said is a promise, yes?” Melia whispered conspiratorially once he had leaned down. 

“Yes,” Kallian agreed, attempting to match her volume, “It is a promise.”

Melia let go of his sleeve with a pleased half-nod, then skipped off to join her mother by the trees, somehow avoiding every flower in the garden on her way. Kallian stared after her before making his own much slower progress back to the central walkway, but a few extra moments to think over what he had just agreed to did not go unappreciated. Few words were spoken as the parties went their separate ways, and Kallian again found himself among his father’s procession, crossing the long bridge back to the central palace. 

Sudden motion caught his eye as they progressed, and he turned around. Melia stood, in the same place as before, but not at all the same position. She had one arm up, jauntily waving goodbye. After a moment of consideration, Kallian returned the gesture. 

And he wondered if perhaps there had been no reason to be nervous in the first place.


	2. a promise, fulfilled

Everything was finally in place for Melia’s outing. Kallian had gone to great lengths making certain he wasn’t breaking any rules by even considering sneaking Melia out, and it had taken time to go through the records, long nights spent at the desk in his study sifting through aging parchment. The next task was to choose a time based upon the behavioral patterns of the monsters that lived in the Eryth Sea and then pick a route that would minimize the risk of the encounter. He’d decided upon taking Melia to the lighthouse because the beacon was generally a good deterrent for the more pugnacious denizens of the hovering reefs, but also because the two of them would not be alone should something go awry. Kallian had spoken with some of the Syrath Lighthouse staff already to inform them of the visit, as well as the imperial guardsmen assigned to both Melia and himself. He’d never really used his princely position to arrange something like this, and doing it all without informing the Emperor felt to a degree treasonous. But there was some thrill in that, too, even knowing it wasn’t.

Kallian briefly considered stopping by the armory or one of the training halls to pick up a sword, wondering and worrying if he should take it as an added precaution, even given his calculations. He had even started to walk in the direction of one of those destinations when he realized how difficult that would be to justify to Sorean, should be required to. He realized as well, to some greater shame, that going through the proper channels to take one of those delicate rapiers would be incredibly suspicious in its own right. He could almost hear the Emperor’s voice in his head, commenting on how remarkable it was that Kallian should take a sword out of the armory for such a thing after all the combat practices he had skipped to go bury his nose in some obscure treatise. 

Kallian had turned back to go the way that would take him to the Imperial Villa at that point, so consumed with such thoughts that he almost smacked directly into Yumea Antiqua, First Consort. At the very last moment, he was able to feign some composure. “Ah,” Kallian spoke with trepidation, “Mother? My apologies.”

Yumea wore a perpetual scowl as if the elaborate tresses of her hair had permanently wrinkled the top of her nose. She stared down at Kallian, assessing some unknown thing. “Indeed.” She spoke in a tone befitting the scowl, “You seem to be in quite the hurry, Kallian. Where might you be headed with such urgency?”

Kallian’s heart thudded in his chest as he searched his mouth for a lie but found half the truth instead. “The Imperial Villa, Mother.”

Something flashed, cold and dark, behind Yumea’s eyes. “What business could you possibly have there?” Spoken too quickly, too bitterly.

“I wish to pay a visit to Melia.” Again, half the truth.

“Is there not--” Yumea exhaled sharply, mastering her tone. “Is there not some better use of your time, my son?” A loaded suggestion, wrapped in patronization. She smiled, though it did not suit her face.

“I do not believe so,” Kallian shook his head, meeting Yumea’s gaze with great effort, “I am well ahead in my studies.”

“Ah,” The First Consort’s smile faltered, “How... remarkable.”  
This did not seem much of a compliment to Kallian, but he could not dwell on it for fear of upsetting the timetables on which he’d so carefully balanced his scheme. “Yes. May I take my leave?”

“Hm? Oh, you may,” The scowl had returned to Yumea’s face, and Kallian started past her when she called for him to stop. “Although, Kallian... In the future, I would suggest you reconsider where your allegiances lie.”

Kallian spared her the briefest polite nod, in too much of a hurry to dwell on that statement, either.

***

Melia was again seated in the Villa’s flower garden when Kallian found her, having crossed the long bridge from the transporter in record time. He made his way to her more slowly, mostly to catch his breath. When he did reach, Kallian stood in silence, listening to the wind for just a moment.

Melia didn’t seem perturbed by his appearance, standing to brush her dress off before turning to face him. “Good,” she said, “You’re finally here.”

“Yes, I--” Kallian paused with a realization, “You were expecting me?”

Melia nodded. “Indeed. Aizel said you would be here, and to dress appropriately.”

“Appropriately? How so?” Though Kallian had a disappointing suspicion.  
Melia frowned, a crease forming between her eyebrows. “Are we not going outside?” 

“Ah, my apologies. We are going outside. I did not realize you had already been informed of our excursion.” Kallian had been looking forward to surprising her with it, and could not help being a little crestfallen even though it was only logical that one of Melia’s guards had told her. He took a breath. “Shall we?”

Melia nodded again, a single sharp dip of her chin. “We shall.” Spoken with every ounce of imperial authority her tiny frame could manage.

The two of them crossed the garden and then the bridge. Melia hesitated before the transporter before stepping onto it ahead of Kallian, who had the realization that the last time she had left the villa might not have been since she was revealed to the public as an infant more than three decades ago. Still, she faced the inside of the Whitewing palace with grace. It was at the castle entrance, gazing upon the panoramic that the upper level of Melfica Road offered, that she froze, hands curled into little fists around the fabric of her dress. Kallian paused next to her, tilting his head in a silent question. She looked up at him, huffed, and soldiered on for a moment before realizing that she did not actually know where they were going. Melia reluctant let Kallian take the lead down the moving walkway, transferring one of her hands from her dress to his sleeve so she could look around without fear of wandering off. They continued this way down the stairs and through the tunnel to the main transporter, until a firm tug from Melia insisted that they stop. 

“I did not think you were serious,” She said, softly, letting go of Kallian’s sleeve.

“You insisted that Alcamoth was not to your standards of what an excursion should be,” Kallian responded almost wryly.

“I was simply under the impression you would be attempting to change my mind!” Indignant, as if something similar had already happened to her.

“No, Melia. Though I do hope you will come around to our fair city eventually,” Kallian proffered his sleeve, “Today I would be most honored to introduce you to the Eryth Sea.”

Melia took his hand instead, a smile upon her lips. “You did promise you would.”

Kallian smiled in return. “I did indeed.”

They took the transporter together, out onto the pristine whiteness of the central gate. It took Kallian a moment to get his bearings, but he found the next transporter without too much difficulty. Melia was clearly eager to look around, but they still had to keep to schedule, and their small delays would certainly add up. He hurried them onward through the first transporter and onto the first hovering reef they would have to traverse, one of the three-pronged variety. And then it was onto the next, six-pronged, almost flowerlike in the way it curved toward the sky. The reef that housed the Syrath Lighthouse was like the first, with three distinct outcroppings, and Kallian was relieved upon their arrival, the proximity of the lighthouse beacon meaning few if any monsters would trouble them for the duration of their trip. 

At last Melia could do some sightseeing, ogling every plant and blade of grass, the huge faux-corals and the blue of the sea. She was ecstatic to see the lighthouse, and after the first three times Kallian was too exhausted to accompany her as she ran around both levels of the glowing spire. She paused at last just as the sun began to set, sitting cross-legged on the ground as if the whole of the sea, maybe even the whole of the Bionis, was just an extension of the villa in her garden. Kallian sat next to her as the sky changed from orange to the first blue and purple hues, and he could not help but smile when Melia gasped at the appearance of the stars and the aurora that colored the sky so brightly. She pulled on his sleeve again and pointed, insisted he look with her because it was so much better than all the textbooks had said it would be.

And he looked at her then, eyes as full of stars as the skies above. He looked and remembered the first time he had seen Melia, just a few days old, with the barest wisps of silver hair and indications of feathers on her head. She’d been asleep, little fingers still half curled around some invisible thing. Kallian had been wonderstruck by this tiny life, and the Second Consort had smiled warmly. Melia had been in her arms, but she passed the bundle to Kallian. He’d tried to object, as quietly as possible, but the Second Consort shook her head, still smiling. The baby had stirred in Kallian’s arms, wrinkling her nose for just a moment before letting out a yawn. His exposure to infants had been limited, so he looked to the Second Consort for some affirmation, some indication that he was supposed to be feeling like his heart was so warm it would melt. She shrugged, her smile only widening. 

Kallian’s little sister was swaddled in light purple fabric, arrayed with care so she would fit right in with all the blooms of Alcamoth. 

A little stardrop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading! this fic is dear to my heart for a lot of reasons, and i hope it can make other people smile, too!
> 
>  
> 
> if you like my xenoblade fics, please check out courtship of birds, which is much longer than this one!


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